Home Is Nearby

by Magdalena McGuire

  But the work that I kept returning to was a performance piece, For Those We Mourn. The artist lay on a bed at the front of the church where the choir would normally sing. She was shrouded in a white sheet, her dark hair spilling out the sides. The artist was going to lie there for the duration of the eight-hour exhibition without eating or going to the toilet, only moving the bare minimum required to breathe. Her performance, so simple, made my throat catch.

  Though Krzysio had been released home, Dariusz was still in intensive care. I hadn’t seen him since the attack. He was only allowed visits from family, which meant that not even Krzysio was allowed in the room. I wondered how Dariusz was looking, whether he was covered in bruises, or whether the worst damage had been done on the inside.

  I walked up three stairs to the apse of the church, where my piece was displayed. The sculpture, set on a crate, towered above me. The circles of metal morphing into feathers, into flight. They were illuminated by light streaming in from the stained-glass windows. Specks of red and yellow danced on the feathers. On a placard next to the sculpture was Dominik’s article about State corruption. It contained a photograph of my sculpture without its feathers. Dominik had attributed the sculpture to me, using my full name, Anna Izabela Skowrońska. It was the first time I had seen my name in print. Though I had expected to feel a thrill of recognition, I felt oddly divorced from it, as though my name belonged to someone else.

  As I stood back from my sculpture, Dominik climbed the stairs to join me. He circled his arm around my waist as he examined my piece.

  ‘You were right,’ he said. ‘It’s better with the feathers. When you told me what you were going to do, I couldn’t picture it. I don’t have the imagination you do. You’ve made something strange and fantastic. Something that makes me feel lighter when I look at it.’ He drew me in for a kiss before quickly pulling away, mindful that the priest was standing not far from us, his hands smoothing the skirt of his black cassock.

  Dominik’s praise elevated me. Arm-in-arm, we made our way to the nave of the church and lined up to see Małgorzata’s work. In front of us, a man in a tweed suit was looking at a photo of an empty vase. As Dominik and I contemplated an image of a dressing gown hanging on a door, I asked, ‘What object would you choose for me? If I was gone?’

  He squeezed my hand. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to you.’

  ‘But if it did?’

  ‘This,’ he said, stroking the woollen neck of my jumper. ‘Who else would knit a jumper from hundreds of different offcuts of wool?’ We moved on to examine another photo and then he asked, ‘What would you pick for me?’

  ‘Probably your typewriter.’

  ‘Not these?’ He retrieved a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his sheepskin jacket, slipped one in his mouth and affected a crinkled forehead.

  I grabbed the cigarette and put it back in the pack. ‘Definitely not those.’

  ‘Actually I was wrong,’ Dominik said. ‘I don’t think I’d pick your jumper after all. I think I might pick this.’ He pulled out a small box, which he opened to reveal a ring. There was a quiver in his lips and he gave his head a quick shake. He bent down on one knee. ‘Ania, I love you. I can’t imagine who I would be without you. Sometimes I feel like I only exist because you’re around. You’re my life. You’re so much better than me, my darling. In spite of that, will you marry me?’

  Though we’d talked about marriage for some time, I always thought it was half in jest. I wasn’t expecting Dominik to actually propose – not yet, anyway. I looked around the church, reminding myself that all this was real. Before I came to Wrocław I’d never even attended an art exhibition and now I had curated one. Before this, my one clumsy attempt at lovemaking involved hurting a man before he could hurt me.

  I was no longer afraid. I had fallen in love with a man who was talented and funny and charismatic and – incredibly – he wanted to marry me.

  Through my tears I nodded, yes, yes, and pulled Dominik up from the ground. He laughed with relief and wiped his eyes. Then he slipped the ring on my finger. I held out my hand to a nearby candle to better see it. Set with a pink ruby and raised on a filigree of gold, it was a beautiful old-fashioned design. As I examined it, the band started to slip off, too large for my finger.

  ‘Don’t worry, we can fix it.’ Dominik slid the ring back in place. ‘We’ll do everything, my love. We’ll go to Paris and you’ll show your art. We’ll go everywhere you want.’

  ‘How about Fabryczna?’ I said with a laugh.

  ‘What?’ Dominik said with a bemused smile. He wasn’t there with us on that trip. The thought of Krzysio and Dariusz sobered me, but then a wave of joy took over.

  Father would be happy for me. He didn’t have to worry about me anymore because Dominik and I were family. The ring on my finger would tell everyone that. It would tell everyone that this was love, this was love, this was love.

  15

  Krzysio’s mother opened their apartment door. Her mulberry lipstick was oddly dark against her pale skin. ‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said. ‘So good.’ She blinked fast and then turned away from us. ‘Sorry.’ She shook her head. Dominik stepped over to hug her and she pressed her face to him for a long time. Małgorzata and I hugged her next.

  Krzysio was in bed, his pyjama-clad legs stretched on the covers. As we walked in, he turned down the romantic strains of the violin that was playing from the tape-deck. ‘Chopin’s Nocturne Number Two,’ he said. ‘See, I have learned something from Dariusz.’ He gave a short laugh and then winced, testing his face with his fingers. The bruises were faded now, yellow-grey shadows on his cheeks. The bandage on his forehead had been removed, revealing a deep gash.

  I perched on the bed and lightly grazed my lips against Krzysio’s cheek. ‘We brought you these.’ I gave him a jar of Father’s honey and a copy of Bialy i Czerwony, with Dominik’s latest article in it.

  As I passed him the newspaper he grabbed my hand. ‘You did it,’ he said, running his thumb along the ring.

  ‘I told you I’d marry her.’ Dominik was sitting on the floor, tapping a pen against his shoe.

  ‘And rightly so,’ Małgorzata said. ‘You’re a better man when Ania’s around.’ As she and Dominik looked at each other, something passed between them.

  Dominik reached over and cupped my ankle. ‘Now, we have to hurry up and do it before you change your mind.’

  I twisted the ring on my finger, letting myself enjoy the feeling that I belonged in Dominik’s life. I held out my hand to Krzysio so he could look at it once more.

  ‘What’s that?’ He peered at the line in the band.

  ‘I cut it,’ I said. ‘To make it fit.’

  I’d returned to the workshop owned by Jankowski’s friend and, with his help, sliced through the ring and then soldered it back together. Though I’d filed the ring, there was a very faint line where it had been cut. Perhaps a jeweller would have done a better job but Dominik and I were saving money for our new life. Father was going to help us, he said. When I had called him at the post office to give him the news, he said, ‘If this makes you happy słoneczko, then it makes me happy too. You’re all grown up now and it’s time to let you go.’ Though I’d wanted his congratulations, a sense of unease came over me. ‘You don’t have to let me go just yet,’ I said.

  Standing up, Małgorzata swayed from side to side, rocking the baby inside her. She was as slim as ever but her stomach protruded; it looked the size of two fists. Turning to Krzysio, she said, ‘Your mother tells me you haven’t left the house in days.’

  ‘So?’ He bunched up some sheet in his hand and then smoothed it out. ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘Just that …’ Małgorzata stopped swaying. ‘Just that the longer you stay in here, the harder it’s going to be. Don’t you want to see Dariusz?’

  ‘They won’t let me,’ he said. ‘I’m not family.’

  ‘Well if those are the rules I guess there’s nothing we can do.’ She gave him a pointed
look.

  ‘Dariusz needs you,’ I said to Krzysio. ‘And Małgorzata can arrange this. She has a way of getting what she wants.’

  He smiled ruefully and then shook his head. ‘It’s asking for trouble.’

  ‘You won’t be alone,’ Dominik said. ‘We’ll come.’

  Krzysio closed his eyes. Then he got up and padded his way over to the tape deck and unplugged it from the wall. ‘He’ll be missing his music.’

  The hallway of the hospital smelt of antiseptic and cigarette smoke. A couple of nurses strode by, their heels rapping the concrete floor as they chatted about a television program that Father and I used to watch, All the Sundays. They stopped to briefly examine a man who was lying on a wheeled bed in the narrow hall. His eyelids fluttered, and he clasped his stomach and groaned. ‘The doctor will see you tomorrow,’ said one of the nurses, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

  ‘Intensive care is at the far end of the building, to the left.’ Małgorzata joined the rest of us in the hallway. She led the way. A passing doctor directed a kindly smile at her belly. When we reached intensive care, Małgorzata strode up to reception, announcing that Krzysio was Dariusz’s cousin and had travelled a long way to see him. She drummed her fingernails on the counter. ‘We’ll wait here while he goes in.’

  The nurse, a middle-aged woman with doughy cheeks, shook her head. ‘Room twenty-three? His parents didn’t say anything about a cousin.’ She opened the drawer of a nearby filing cabinet, retrieved a manila folder and inspected the contents. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing in here about family, other than the parents.’ The filing cabinet clattered as she pushed the drawer shut. ‘Please move away from the desk,’ she said to Małgorzata. ‘You’re holding up the queue.’

  Małgorzata surveyed the room. It was empty except for the four of us and the nurse. Reaching to her throat, she undid the clasp of her necklace. She dangled the gold chain before depositing it on the counter. ‘Dariusz’s cousin would like to see him now.’

  The nurse glanced behind her and with one swift motion swept the necklace into her palm.

  ‘Which room was it, Pani?’ Małgorzata asked.

  ‘I’ve only just started my shift. I’ll make sure he’s ready for visitors.’ The nurse bustled off.

  We waited quietly in the room, exchanging glances but not saying anything. Krzysio put down the tape deck and tucked his shirt into his pants. Then, looking at his reflection in the glass door, he arranged some hair over the gash on his forehead. He picked up the tape deck and swung it back and forth in his fist.

  The nurse reappeared. She licked her lips and then said, ‘Państwo, there’s been a misunderstanding. Unfortunately we don’t have him. As I told you, I just started my shift. I wasn’t aware.’

  ‘He’s been discharged!’ Krzysio said. He hugged the tape deck to his chest and I kissed him, stress unravelling in my stomach. Thank God.

  A grin spread on Dominik’s face and he grabbed Krzysio and pulled him into a hug. ‘I told you he’d be okay,’ Dominik said. Krzysio was shaking his head with relief.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I said.

  Everyone started talking at the same time. ‘In that case we can go see him at home.’ ‘A gift. We’ll get him a gift.’ ‘Didn’t I tell you?’

  ‘No.’ The nurse had to raise her voice. ‘The patient wasn’t discharged. He died. There was internal bleeding around the heart, poor boy. I just started my shift.’

  Krzysio inhaled sharply and slumped towards the counter. The tape deck dropped to the floor. Dominik swooped in to support him. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’

  There was a plunging sensation in my chest. The hospital floor was treacherous under my feet.

  ‘This is confidential information.’ The nurse’s eyes darted between us. ‘I’m only telling you because you’re family.’

  16

  Every time I saw a militiaman on the street, my ribs squeezed against my chest, forcing the air out of my body. Blood rushed to my temples and I wanted to shout at them, punish them for what they’d done. My anger and my impotence left me short of breath. I wished Dominik was here. He and Krzysio had gone to the country for Dariusz’s funeral. They would be away for four days. Upon Krzysio’s insistence, I had stayed put in Wrocław. He said that Dariusz never told his family how things were between them so his attendance at the funeral had to be low key. As far as Dariusz’s family was concerned, he was there as a friend.

  With Dominik gone, I had no reason to leave the dormitory. I stayed in bed, falling in and out of consciousness. I kept seeing the boy from my school who walked to the middle of a frozen lake and then fell in and drowned. Instead of a school satchel, he was carrying a violin.

  My roommate Basia was bent over my bed, shaking me. ‘You’ve got a phone call.’

  In the dormitory hall, I picked up the telephone receiver. ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Aniusieńka.’

  As soon as I heard Father’s voice I started to cry, tears sifting through my eyelashes and wetting my cheeks. I wiped them away.

  ‘What is it, słoneczko?’ he said.

  I thought of telling him about Dariusz but didn’t trust myself to do so without breaking down completely. I needed to tell him in person, not when there was a censor listening to our call. ‘I miss you,’ I said. ‘I can’t wait to come home.’

  He clicked his tongue. ‘Stay where you are. You need to concentrate on your studies.’

  ‘What? I need to see you. It’s been too long.’

  ‘Now isn’t a good time.’

  At that moment we were interrupted, This call is being monitored. This call is being monitored. When the message stopped, I said, ‘Do you have a girlfriend? Because I’m happy for you to have someone … Pani Wedel has a lot of good qualities.’

  Father laughed straight from his chest. ‘Pani Wedel? The stories you come up with, Ania.’ He coughed and said, ‘I’m busy right now.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  He sighed and said, ‘The doctor wants me to attend these stupid appointments. It’s nothing.’

  A cold feeling crawled over my scalp. ‘I’ll get on the next –’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing. Dear Lord, what a drama. You know why this is? We have a new lady doctor in the village and she’s so eager to show off her learning that she invents illnesses where there are none.’

  ‘What does she say is wrong with you?’

  The recorded message interrupted us once more and when it was finished, Father said, ‘Nothing, nothing’s wrong. Tell me about that exhibition of yours, that’s why I called. Tell me everything. Quickly, before the clerk snatches the phone off me.’

  I told him about the exhibition at the Church of Three Saints and then said I would come home at the end of term, which was only a few weeks away.

  ‘I can’t find them anywhere,’ Małgorzata said.

  Dominik and I helped her rummage through the mess of papers on the kitchen table, looking for the documents. The restrictions on travel had been eased and she and Ryszard had been granted visas to go to Paris for three months. If they didn’t return within that time, their Polish passports would be cancelled.

  Małgorzata upended her handbag on the table, spilling out a notebook, a couple of rolls of film and some scraps of tobacco. Dominik scraped the tobacco into his palm, adding his own to make a cigarette. He offered it around. ‘One puff,’ Małgorzata said. ‘I’m past the danger zone.’ She drew on the cigarette and then quickly returned it to Dominik as Ryszard appeared in the kitchen. ‘The travel documents are gone.’ Małgorzata wove the remaining smoke from her mouth.

  ‘I told you I had them. They’re right here.’ Ryszard reached into the inner pocket of his jacket.

  ‘Oh. I thought they were missing.’ She gazed around the kitchen and then picked up a photography book from the table. ‘I don’t have room for this.’

  ‘We’ll get new things,’ he said.

  They were each taking two bags of belongings to Paris. Any more
would arouse suspicion. For the same reason, they had left things in the apartment much as they were. ‘Besides,’ Małgorzata had said to me, ‘it might be a holiday after all. You never know.’ The rent was paid on the apartment for the duration of their travel visa. Dominik and I would live there while they were gone.

  ‘I forgot to show you something.’ Małgorzata dragged me to the bathroom and wriggled the taps, directing the shower-hose into the bath. ‘There’s a trick to it. Otherwise you end up with scalding water.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Dominik and I stayed here once.’

  ‘That’s right.’ She lowered herself to the edge of the bathtub.

  I sat beside her. ‘Remember the Christmas we all had together?’

  ‘I remember.’ She put her arm around me, then withdrew it to check her watch. ‘Krzysio’s not coming.’

  I didn’t think he would. Dominik said that their attendance at the funeral had been a disaster. Dariusz’s father had approached them and accused them of leading his son astray. He said that they were a bad influence, that what happened was their fault. Apparently Krzysio had tried to pull Dominik away, saying they shouldn’t have come. In the end, they sat in the back pew and hurried out before the service had ended. Since returning to Wrocław, Krzysio hadn’t left the apartment. His studies were put on hold.

  Małgorzata rested her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair before she pushed herself up and said, ‘I’ll show you where we keep our sheets. Although, I guess they’re yours now.’

  She was digging in the hallway cupboard when Ryszard approached. ‘We’re going to be late.’

  A silence descended as Małgorzata and Ryszard pulled on their coats and collected their bags. They didn’t want us to see them off. The best thing to do was to get on the train as casually as possible: they were simply going on a holiday, like their travel documents said.

  ‘Right.’ Małgorzata scanned the living room. ‘I guess that’s everything.’

  I hugged her, the hard mound of her belly pressing into mine.